


Resurrection

by txorakeriak



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-07
Updated: 2007-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txorakeriak/pseuds/txorakeriak
Summary: After the end ofAt World's End, Jack is left with a dinghy and the determination to get hisPearlback as soon as possible, but it turns out she has to wait a bit longer after all.
Relationships: James Norrington/Jack Sparrow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Resurrection

With a sigh, Jack wiped the sweat from his forehead and adjusted the dirty sail of his dinghy to the wind before he let himself fall down on the planks again. He was beginning to hate water with a passion. For days now, his whole body had felt as dry as a corpse in the desert, and yet, there had been nothing but water around him, gazillions of gallons of water. It was a temptation that could drive a man insane in this infernal heat. He didn't even have a spare sail to shield himself from the merciless sun. 

Not to mention that - as always - the rum had been gone long ago.

Grumbling under his dry breath, he scowled at the compass next to him. Apparently, it was incapable of separating short-term needs from long-term desires. It had to be obvious that the thing he wanted most right then was a place to lie down, some fresh water, some fruit, and maybe the company of some sea turtles. He'd even be willing to endure another bunch of natives, and that was saying something. But no, the compass had kept pointing the same direction during the whole voyage from Port Royal, and apart from one small island that barely had enough fresh water to quench his thirst for the time being, let alone for taking some with him, the compass had swiftly led him around every island there had to be. 

True, his boat didn't have a leak this time, but he wasn't too inclined to appreciate that at this very moment.

Suddenly, he started. There was something on the horizon, dots of rich green and yellow in the middle of all the agonizing blue. He leapt to his feet and hastily browsed his bag for his telescope before he hurried back to the bow. 

He could hardly believe his luck. An island! He adjusted his sail again, picked up the oars and started rowing as fast as the drought in his body permitted him to. He ignored the voice in his head chiding him for wasting his last energy on what could be a Fata Morgana, just like he ignored the heavily spinning needle of his compass that was obviously protesting against the change of course. He just didn't care. The _Pearl_ had no use for a dead captain - any more than for a skeletal one, Jack mused, gritting his teeth - so she simply had to wait out a bit longer. 

He moved his gaze back to the horizon. The island was approaching far too slowly for Jack's taste, but it _was_ approaching, revealing a bit more of itself with every row: sandy yellow beaches, palm trees, grey rocks and small hills covered with vegetation. It was definitely bigger than the one he had involuntarily been made Governor of a long time ago - or at least it _felt_ like a long time ago - but it was smaller than the one he would almost have spent the rest of his earthly life on, tied to a stick and covered in paprika. 

He continued rowing as if it were the last thing he'd ever do, despite the fact that his lungs were burning like fire and streams of hot sweat ran down his face, getting into his eyes, blurring his vision. Not long now, he kept telling himself. If he was lucky, there was an oasis on this island, or at least some coconut trees. A few more strokes until paradise, if Fate was kind to him. 

Fate was. When he moved his foot over the rim of the dinghy and lowered it, it actually hit sand, hot sand that felt like glowing ashes underneath his thin, holey shoe soles. He endured it like a good martyr, folding his hands and nodding gratefully up towards the sky and down towards the sea. Then, he quickly fetched a rope and tied the dinghy to a large, obelisk-shaped rock on the shore, in the shadowy shelter of a palm tree. It would keep for a couple of hours, as the current wasn't that strong there. 

Quite satisfied with his work, he grabbed his bag from inside the boat and started walking inland. 

He was pleased to notice that there were plenty of coconuts around, enough for a few days, if he were forced to stay longer than he had intended. One could never predict the weather in this part of the Caribbean, and the last thing he wanted was a tide that took him back to where he had come from. 

He put a few coconuts into his bag and continued walking. The heat was much more bearable under the cover of palm leaves, and after a while, he had caught his breath from his earlier exhaustion. His lungs still hurt, but not as much, and the knowledge that he would still have the coconuts even if he didn't find any fresh water was distracting enough from the pain.

Suddenly, he heard a soft splash from a western direction. It was either the other end of the island, or the long desired pond of fresh water, ready to quench his thirst. For a moment, Jack's throat felt even drier than it actually was, but the steadily increasing volume of the sound put a golden smile on his lips. 

A few minutes later, he saw it: a deep, blue pond framed by rocks and green grass and constantly filled by a little waterfall that came out of a little cave. If there was such a thing as paradise on earth, this was it. 

Hastily, he dropped himself on one of the rocks around the pond and dug his hands in, drinking greedily. He didn't care about how much he spilled - there was no need to care for trivial things like that. All that mattered was the cool, heavenly liquid caressing his burning throat, soothing the pain. It felt as if he was drinking from the Fountain of Life itself, as if his whole body was being resurrected, filled with life and energy. 

As he had drunk enough water, he quickly took a coconut, crashed it into a rock and sucked the milk out. Then, he took his knife from his belt and carved the firm, white flesh off the hard shell before he ate it like a starving man. God, he couldn't even remember when he had eaten the last time, but it couldn't have tasted that good.

It only took a little while until the coconut was gone. Well sated for the time being, Jack lay down on a grass-covered rock and lazily stared into the water, allowing himself some well-deserved rest. 

He didn't even notice dozing off.

When he opened his eyes again, the pond was red and yellow, reflecting the setting sun from the sky. Jack yawned and drank a bit more water, deciding not to leave the island till morning. After all, he had to find a suitable means to transport some of the water into his dinghy. 

He was about to turn around to prepare himself another coconut when he heard a rather familiar voice. 

"It seems that once again, the rumours of your death have been greatly exaggerated, _Captain_ Sparrow."

Jack's eyes went wide. _Norrington?_ He couldn't see his reflection in the water, but it had to be him. He'd recognize that voice anywhere with its dark, almost velvety sound that was usually topped by more than just a healthy dose of sarcasm. What the _hell_ was he doing here? And why did he have this annoying habit to always show up in the most impossible of places?

He slowly turned around, trying to look as unaffected as possible. "Oh, I've heard a couple of quite interesting rumours about your imposing self, too. So it seems I'm not the only one whose presence here is rather - unexpected."

The former admiral sat down on a rock not too far away from Jack's and took a handful of water from the pond. He didn't look too different from when Jack had last seen him - except for the beard and the lack of wig, of course, and the brocade that had been replaced by a simple linen shirt and brown breeches. "No rumours in my case, unfortunately."

"Ah!" Jack cocked an eyebrow. "So it's true then?" 

"If you're referring to the fact that I died, yes."

"Hm." Contemplatively, Jack scanned the other man. "You don't look any paler than before," he mused absent-mindedly, then shook his head, as if to get the strange line of thought out of his mind. "But tell me, how did it happen? Just to get some order into all those rumours, you know."

"A member of the _Flying Dutchman_ 's crew drove a pole into me after I had assisted in the Chinese crew's escape." Norrington let out a dark laugh. "It was undoubtedly a warranted retribution for my actions."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Eh? Sorry, mate, but wasn't that a mite foolish of you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there are so many occasions for spectacular deaths in the world. Beckett took his chance. Heck, even Will did! Only you, the former _Scourge of Piracy_ , did not. There are only so many reasons for a man to prefer the unspectacular, even _useless_ death. Which one was yours?" 

Norrington sighed. "I did not do it to redeem myself of anything, or to become the tragic hero, if that's what you're saying."

"Then it makes even less sense to me. Why did you do it?"

"To help."

"To help someone who betrayed your trust on more than one occasion - as well as mine, if I may add - and who, even more importantly, would have easily gotten out of the whole mess without your help?" Jack frowned deeply. "I'm disappointed at you. I always thought you to be cleverer than that."

"As an officer of His Majesty's Navy, saving the lives of my fellow Englishmen is my duty, and despite everything, Eli- _Mrs Turner_ is-" he swallowed as he corrected himself yet again, " _was_ still under my protection by law."

Jack sighed. "So that's how it is? That's why you did it?"

"Yes."

"Hm." Jack paused for a while, lost in thoughts. "And I take it the new captain of the _Dutchman_ got you back amongst the living?" He let out a light chuckle. "So the lad does have a good head on his shoulders after all. I must say I'm surprised."

Norrington uncomfortably cleared his throat. "Yes… Captain Turner thought it appropriate," he said lowly, a hint of sadness in his voice, "and I am grateful, yet ashamed by his kindness, for which I have no explanation. I had forfeited my place in this world a long time ago." 

"Ah, no false modesty now," Jack interrupted him, waving his hand. "No matter what happened, you're still a good man deep inside there." He poked the other man's chest to illustrate his point, ignoring Norrington's slight flinch as he went on. "The world needs good men. Too many bad ones around to disturb the balance, eh?" He flashed him a perfect grin that only earned him a frown.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're almost glad to see me alive."

"You wound me, Norrington," Jack declared dramatically, faking offence. "I was rooting for you from the beginning, wasn't I?"

Norrington let out a sarcastic laugh. "Do pardon me for having difficulties believing that, considering you were a part of the opposing side all this time." 

"Not _all_ the time, mate." Jack grinned. "I'm sure you remember that this adventure we were part of wasn't always a matter of black and white."

Norrington sighed. 

"Anyway," Jack went on, "this is a fresh start, right?"

"I… think so," the former naval officer admitted, taking another handful of water from the pond. "Nobody is going to believe I'm alive, anyway, so I might as well make good use of the chance to start a new life."

Jack nodded. "I thought so. Then I suppose there is no other way than…" He trailed off, cocking his head to think. 

Norrington sighed. "What?" It was obvious that he wasn't too pleased about the pirate's proneness to exaggerating his actions.

Jack ignored the tone and just patted the spot next to him. "Come here." 

Hesitatingly, the other man got up from his rock and walked over to Jack's, doing his best to make the frown on his forehead obvious. Slowly, he sat down beside Jack, still unsure what to expect.

When the pirate flashed him his best grin, it visibly dawned in Norrington's face, but Jack had already pulled the rather dumbstruck man into his lap and kissed him full on the lips. 

Norrington didn't struggle, which was surprising but not in the least unwelcome, and when the pirate eventually pulled back, gasping for air, the other man didn't slap him or throw him into the pond, which was definitely a good sign. Instead, he gave him a quizzical look and almost absent-mindedly licked the last bits of the pirate's taste off his lips before he spoke. "What was that for?" 

His face was difficult to read, but his voice was mostly calm, with only the slightest bit of shock - no, _surprise_ rather - and definitely no anger. Jack frowned for an instant, wondering if he had underestimated the other man all this time. After all, they were alone on this island. Norrington would have no reason for pretence. 

Eventually, Jack discarded the thought because it led nowhere and decided it would be best to give a reply instead. "Well, you see, mate," he said, rather enjoying the feeling of Norrington's body so close to his and his undoubtedly well-curved backside pressing against his privates, "the Navy positively _ruined_ you for your latest life. This time, I'm going to make sure that I'm the one to corrupt you first." 

Norrington couldn't help laughing at the words. "You think things will turn out better if you're the one to corrupt me?"

Jack shrugged. "Better for me, I'm sure," he leered, writhing seductively against Norrington's backside before he pushed him down into a lying position and climbed on top of him. "I've been horribly lonely in that damned dinghy, anyway." 

"Now isn't that a shame," Norrington only smirked, and before he could say anything else - especially something horrid about bathing - Jack quickly pulled him into another kiss.


End file.
